


Present of the Present

by cat_77



Series: Flufftober 2018 [6]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 06:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16212944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cat_77/pseuds/cat_77
Summary: “I told you the story.  I told you how I destroyed the last one...”“And I told you that was utter bullshit,” she shot back easily enough.





	Present of the Present

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt of “gift.”
> 
> * * *

It had been one year. Not since Clary had met him or anything like that, but since Jace had learned he was not a Wayland nor a Morgenstern, but a Herondale instead. One year since he had learned just how much of his life had been a carefully constructed lie. One year to live free of that lie and to try to find himself again, or possibly for the first time.

“Up,” Clary directed. She pushed his shoulders towards the stairs and was tempted to push against his behind just because she could, but reluctantly relented.

“Why?” he asked, but did as he was told.

“Because I have a present for you,” she replied easily enough.

He turned so that she could see his raised eyebrow before he pointed out, “It’s not my birthday.”

“Nope,” she agreed with a grin. “But it’s an anniversary.”

His eyes grew wide with just a hint of panic and she could tell he was trying to figure out if he had missed something important, like forgotten just when their first date or first kiss had been. It was in no way adorable save for the way it truly was. “I... um,” he started, but she waved him off.

“It’s the one year anniversary of you finding out who you really are. It’s your first re-birthday,” she explained patiently.

He looked skeptical, but was willing to go along with it for now. That was, until he reached the roof and saw just what awaited him. He froze, body tense, and she had the feeling the word panic was still at play.

“I told you,” he stuttered. “I told you the story. I told you how I destroyed the last one...”

“And I told you that was utter bullshit,” she shot back easily enough. “Valentine lied to you. He used you and manipulated you and you deserved none of it. What you do deserve though, is a chance at happiness, a chance to feel that pride again without it being ripped away. I was just going to draw you a picture, but he wanted to go that one step further.”

She gestured to where Alec waited at the far side of the rooftop, the falcon resting calmly on the leather glove he wore. To his left was Izzy and next to her was a table covered with equal parts falconry equipment, cake, and brightly wrapped presents.

“I loved that bird,” he admitted. She nodded, right up until he added, “Love is destruction. To love is to be destroyed.” It was a recitation, something ingrained from repetition instead of truth.

“To love is to love,” she corrected. She wrapped her arms around his bicep and kissed what she could reach of his shoulder. “To love is to feel peace and joy and belonging. And you, Jace Herondale, are loved and are so much stronger for it.”

He turned to her, eyes wet with unshed tears. “I don’t know what to say,” he whispered. She tugged him into a hug at that and decidedly didn’t mention when her sleeve became damp where his face was buried against it.

He only pulled away when Alec called over to him to say, “You coming or what? I promise Izzy didn’t make the cake.”

His sister elbowed him in the ribs for his troubles, which set the bird alight. Alec reached to grab at the ties, but missed as they flowed right through his fingertips.

Jace raised his own arm and she watched as he barely flinched when the bird came to rest, talons digging a little deeper than what had to be strictly comfortable against his skin. Not that he seemed to notice. He soothed it and pet the soft feathers atop its head and let it slowly settle and become more comfortable in his hold. And if Clary got a little teary eyed herself when she heard him promise, “You are loved,” well, no one said a thing.


End file.
